Blood Bond Read Online Free PDF Page B

an impression.”
    Joe could only imagine—Montair was full of trophy wives, but Gail was exceptional, and the station’s open plan ensured that everyone would have a clear view of her. There would be talk later, much of it crude. “Okay, thanks. I’ll head down in a minute.”
    â€œI have a little present for you.” Bertrise sounded pleased with herself. “Gervais called half an hour ago and you didn’t pick up.”
    Joe rolled his eyes. “I was here, I was just talking to my mother.”
    â€œOh.” Everyone knew about Mumtaz Bashir. His mother called several times a week. Joe had long since given up on asking her not to. “How is she?”
    â€œFine. So what did Gervais want?”
    â€œThey went back out this morning when it got light and searched again—they found Tom Bergman’s cell phone. It was in a flower bed. Maybe he dropped it and it slid across the pavement.”
    â€œStill working?”
    â€œYes. It figures, doesn’t it? Camille drops hers at the mall and the screen cracks, and we have another year to go on her plan so I have to buy a new one full price.” Bertrise grimaced. Now sixteen and seventeen, her girls had both run wild in Oakland for a while after their father took off. The move to Montair was an effort to start fresh, for all of them. Money was tight, but otherwise they seemed to be settling in well. “Bergman’s phone probably went flying, with him taking a hit like that. The corner is clipped a little, but it’s fine. And he didn’t password-protect it so I got his data before they took it for prints.”
    â€œGreat. What did you get?”
    Bertrise picked a piece of paper from a neat stack with a flourish. “He was on the phone, it looks like—or just got done with a call. Hard to say, because they also found a cigarette butt and it wasn’t smoked all the way down. Maybe he ended the call and stayed out to finish it—”
    â€œSo who’d he call?” Joe didn’t mean to be rude, but Bertrise, circumspect with everyone else, was sometimes voluble with him.
    She checked the sheet. “Hatcher Sproul. He was in Bergman’s contacts, phone number, address, everything’s here. I gave him a buzz—he’s waiting on you to call him.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to do that.”
    â€œWell.” She blinked and looked away.
    â€œI mean it, Bertrise, I know you’re busy.”
    â€œNot that busy, Joe.” She didn’t look at him. At times like this, Joe heard the faint echo of the accent she’d worked so hard to get rid of. “It’s no big deal.”
    â€œWell, thank you. I appreciate it.”
    â€œThe sister is coming in later. I thought she was the caterer, the way she stayed out of the way.”
    â€œI did too, at first,” Joe confessed. “Almost a Cinderella relationship they have, right? One sister out in the limelight, the other one working like a scullery maid in the kitchen.”
    â€œThey were stepsisters in that story, not sisters,” Bertrise corrected him. “And the evil one got hers in the end and Cinderella got the prince. Sometimes it pays to keep your head down and wait for karma to catch up.”
    MARVA GOT up late after finally falling asleep for a few restless hours as dawn approached. She knew from experience that with too little sleep, the day disintegrated from within, a thousand little discomforts: the dry red eyes, the dizzy sensation when she stood up too fast, the irritation at the smallest request. Sometimes crying.
    She’d always slept well until Harmon left. She had hoped the insomnia was temporary, but maybe it wasn’t. Like the purple smudges under her eyes, or the ache in her jaw from grinding her teeth at night—these were the things she got to keep when Harmon left her.
    Or rather, when he asked her to leave. He kept the house, the Range Rover, the few friends